


Butcher's Circus

by EnemyJoestar



Category: Darkest Dungeon (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Background Relationships, Betrayal, Blood and Gore, M/M, Suicide
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-17
Updated: 2020-12-17
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:48:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24768781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EnemyJoestar/pseuds/EnemyJoestar
Summary: The Darkest Dungeon had finally been defeated. The lands cleansed and the air purified. The eldritch taint of the Ancestor was finally gone.Their hardships were over.That was, until the circus came to the Hamlet(OR I really just wanted to write gory fight scenes)
Relationships: Bounty Hunter/Jester (Darkest Dungeon)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 13





	1. The first fight

**Author's Note:**

> PAY ATTENTION TO THE TAGS, THIS IS PARTICULARLY BRUTAL
> 
> I also have to mention that the Bounty hunter/Jester relationship isn't exactly front and centre. 
> 
> Has this been done yet? 
> 
> Just to save some grief, I've used the canon names for all the characters, and I'll list them so you don't have to look them up if you're not familiar. I'll list ones relevant to the chapters as they come out, adding as it becomes necessary.  
> Only two characters weren't mentioned this chapter, so sorry for the info dump right off the bat
> 
> Abomination = Bigby  
> Antiquarian = Josephine  
> Arbalest = Missandei  
> Bounty Hunter = Tardif  
> Crusader = Reynald  
> Hellion = Boudica  
> Highwayman = Dismas  
> Houndmaster/Dog = William/Fergus  
> Jester = Sarmenti  
> Leper = Baldwin  
> Man at arms = Barriston  
> Plague Doctor = Paracelsus  
> Vestal = Junia  
> Flagellant = Damian  
> Shieldbreaker = Amani  
> Musketeer = Margaret

It had been two long years of this. Two years fighting the ungodly earth itself; the forest, the ocean, the dead.

Their dead.

It had taken them two years, but it was finally over. The heart was dead.

Even if time was cyclical, as Heir had said, screaming into its tomb beneath the ruins of his family.

It was dead. It was time to go home.

Not that a lot of them had anywhere to go, but the hamlet had too many bad memories.

Near the end there, they stopped asking for each others names; made things harder when you could put a name to a corpse. But now, the newer editions to the roster were excitedly asking for the names of their heroes, people they fought beside, people who saved their lives.

People who knew the same horrors they did.

No one would ever be the same after this.

The townsfolk decided to throw them a grand party, both a celebration of their hard work, and a farewell to those who wanted to leave in the morning. Things were rowdy. Mutual pining was resolved between a few of them.

Tardif and Sarmenti had hooked up awhile ago, but had kept it on the down low. They really weren't hiding it now, with Sarmenti seated fully in Tardif's lap as he belted out some ungodly tune about sodomizing the constabulary.

William laughed pretty hard at that.

Missandei burst into the tavern.

“Look alive, something's marching into town.” she said sternly. Everyone quickly gathered their weapons and followed her outside.

They saw torches and banners; some checkered black and yellow, others red with black diamonds.

“Oh no.” Sarmenti whispered to himself. He pulled his mask back down over his face and turned to Tardif. “Love, do you trust me?” he asked.

“Always.” Tardif answered. Sarmenti nodded.

“You're about to be the only one.”

He pushed himself through the crowd, making his way to the front just as their uninvited guests came into proper focus.

It was a circus.

There was confused babble spreading between the heroes, questioning the appearance of a circus of all things.

The hamlet was too small and poor to make a profit off of.

A woman clad in black fur and a spiked, armoured helmet lead the procession on a large, black steed. She stopped roughly two meters away from the group.

“Congratulations on having the honoured opportunity to compete in my tournament!” She boomed, voice carrying unnaturally across the Hamlet. The heroes looked at each other in confusion.

“Tomorrow night, you will all test your might against each other, prove who is the strongest among you!” She continued. A few of them laughed.

“To what end?” William asked, not finding it very funny, “And what of permits? There were no proper requests to host a circus here.”

The woman smiled.

“To earn your right to leave, of course.” She answered, “and the circus occurs where I wish it to.”

Missandei scowled, taking a step forward and putting one hand on her hip.

“There will be none of that.” She challenged.

The helmeted woman let out a hearty laugh

“You're welcome to try to leave, if you wish, but you will find it quite impossible.”

Missandei took the challenge and walked off down the road.

Ten minutes later she walked back into town.

“No...” she muttered in horror. Dismas and Margaret tried leaving as well.

They came back in five. They both looked at each other and paled.

“Are you finished? You're starting to test my patience.” The woman said from atop her horse.

Boudica readied her bardiche and went to attack.

Sarmenti stepped between the two.

“Madame Butcher, so lovely to make your acquaintance again!” He said, bowing deeply. They all went silent. The Butcher held a hand up to her rouged lips.

“Sarmenti is that you? Oh what a pleasant surprise!” she exclaimed.

“The pleasure is all mine, Madame.” He said as he stood. “I didn't expect you'd travel so far west.”

“It was starting to get boring. Common folk all kill the same; pitchforks and fists.” she sighed. “But when I heard a rumour about a cursed Hamlet inhabited by frightening outcasts, I decided the trip could be worth my time.”

“You'll be competing again, I assume?” She asked.

“Actually,” Sarmenti said, gesturing towards her, “I'd like to help host.”

There were some unpleasant exclamations behind him.

The Butcher frowned and went silent a moment, hand on her chin.

“I suppose this is a larger group than I'm used to.” She said slowly, “and I've already seen you perform. Very well.”

Sarmenti took up a spot beside her. One of the shorter jesters pulled a scroll out of its pants and unrolled it.

“You will fight to the death, four against four. You may choose your teams, but match ups will be random.” she started. “Upon the unveiling of your opponents, you will have three minutes to come up with a strategy before the fight begins.”

A near identical jester pulled their own scroll out of its pants and unrolled it as well, clearing their throat.

“The winners of each round will continue onto the next; there will be one match a night.” He paused to take a head count of the heroes. “If one of your members dies, you will be able to fill that position with whoever is on reserve, but otherwise will fight with the handicap going forward.”

Dismas rolled his eyes and pulled out his gun. He shot at the Butcher.

The bullet phased through an invisible barrier and shot back, striking his shoulder. He dropped the gun, wincing.

“I wouldn't try that again.” Sarmenti said coldly.

Dismas scowled at him.

“The first match begins tomorrow! Pick your teams; Sarmenti will be by to register them in ten minutes. After that, rest up; we've some exciting evenings before us!” the Butcher shouted, arms raised high in the air.

“Sod off.” Dismas growled. She looked at him in disdain.

“And take note,” she said, venom in her voice, “there will be repercussions for acting out.”

And with that, the countless workers behind her rushed into the Hamlet to set up the tents.

\--

It was a bit of a shit show after that. Some people knew exactly who they wanted to team up with, while others were still hesitant about the situation.

Tardif was approached by Dismas first.

“So, I could use someone with experience on my team.” He said with a smile. “What do you say?”

“My team.” Tardif clarified. Dismas nodded.

“Aye, your team.” He agreed.

Leave this to the professional.

Tardif cast his gaze about Hamlet square. A great many of the others were giving him side glances.

They knew.

He was the biggest threat.

He decided to collect his team as fast as possible.

“Grab Damian. Quick.” He commanded before quickly walking away to find the other man he had in mind. Dismas nearly shoved people out of his way as he headed towards the Flagellant.

Tardif found William sitting on the ground next to Fergus, stroking her fur quietly. He looked up to Tardif as he approached him.

They both nodded.

Sarmenti entered the scene not long after they met up with Dismas and Damian.

Everyone went silent.

“I'll be needing you to pick someone per team to come up to report, as well as anyone who ended up on reserve.” he said coldly, carrying pens and a few pieces of paper.

Boudica, Barriston, Missandei, Tardif and Baldwin walked to the front.

Boudica spat at his feet.

Sarmenti showed no reaction.

He handed a sheet to each of them. Baldwin passed his back.

“No one will fight with a man ready to die.” He said.

Sarmenti collected the papers.

**TRAITOR** was scrawled across one. Sarmenti stared at it for a bit too long. 

“No matter, process of elimination will sort this out.” He said to himself. “Two members of each team will bunk with each other to prevent the discussion of tactics.” 

They stared at him. 

“You better hurry up; I can't supervise you all night.” he said tiredly. 

Tardif and Dismas ended up gathering up with Junia, Reynald and Baldwin, who was shoved in with whoever would take him. 

Sarmenti lead them all to a row of tents where the barracks used to be, and they all went to their assigned quarters.

The regular barracks were missing. 

\--

“Are we just going to go along with this?” Junia asked after a long bout of silence.

No one answered her.

“Think we could get in a quick fuck with these three here?” Dismas chuckled, directing his question at Reynald. 

“I don't care.” and “Please don't.” were said simultaneously by both Tardif and Junia.

Baldwin was busy meditating.

They sat quietly.

“No hard feelings.” Dismas said to no one in particular. 

Tardif nodded.

\--

Tardif was glad he couldn't fall asleep when he saw the shadow puppet on the side of their tent. 

“I'm going for a piss.” He grumbled to Reynald, who had joined Baldwin and Junia in meditation. Dismas was out cold. 

He stepped out and followed Sarmenti at his signal, until they were away from prying ears and eyes. 

Sarmenti lifted their masks up and smashed their lips together in an awkward kiss. 

“Do you still trust me?” He asked with a quivering voice. 

Tardif nodded. 

“Good, because this is worse that I thought.” Sarmenti continued. “I've never seen the circus go on for longer than a night, and four on four is new so far as I know. I think she has more planned that she's letting on.” 

Tardif held him close. 

“You've done this before.” he stated. Sarmenti nodded.

“Last man alive.” he whispered, voice cracking. Tardif held him a little tighter. 

“You have a plan.” He said. Sarmenti nodded again, smearing tears on Tardif's chest. 

“It's gonna take time.” he said. He paused before continuing. “...I can't save everyone.” 

Tardif nodded. 

“They...they must hate me.” Sarmenti mumbled into his chest. 

“Some of them must know you're just trying to survive. It was a smart move.” Tardif said softly, or as softly as Sarmenti knew he could manage. He was a man of few words that had trouble expressing his feelings. 

Sarmenti was more soothed by the deep rumbling in his chest as he spoke.

Tardif tilted the jester's head back to get a good look at his face. He thumbed the large scar across it, silently asking. He had never found the courage to before. 

Sarmenti nodded.

Tardif had already guessed it was from an axe, having left similar wounds on others himself. 

“I have to go.” Sarmenti pulled back, grabbing Tardif's hands as he lowered them. He ran his thumbs over his knuckles. “I'll see you tomorrow.” He choked out. 

Tardif nodded. 

“You will.” 

\--

Waiting for evening was torturous. A lot of them went to have the blacksmith tune up their weapons, though it took him a lot of convincing. He didn't want to contribute to the butchery, but decided in the end that a sharp blade would deliver a more merciful death than a dull one. 

It all felt a little surreal. 

People who fought through hell and back together, now pitted against each other. 

There were all the frivolities of a normal circus, such as food stands and game booths, but no one had any stomach for it. 

Except for Bigby, who was a known stress eater.

The teams kept to themselves. Not necessarily out of distrust of each other.

They had a very short amount of time to try and become apathetic about friends who were about to die. 

By their own hands, no less. 

By the time the games were about to start, everyone was nearly beside themselves with worry.

They all gathered in front of the main tent and were greeted by Sarmenti, who directed them into four smaller tents within. 

They opened into the ring, which was bigger than the town square it had been constructed in.

Tardif scanned the impossibly large crowd and found that trying to focus on their faces gave him a headache.

Sitting in a raised booth in the bleachers was the Butcher.

“Ladies and gentlemen, I welcome you to The Butcher's Circus!” she said, voice booming unnaturally through the air. “Are we excited for tonight's event?” she asked. The crowd roared. 

“Well, we can't keep you waiting, can we? It's time to announce our contenders!” she threw her hands up in the air dramatically. The crowd hollered excitedly, until she held up a finger to silence them. “Sarmenti, if you would.” 

Sarmenti walked into the centre of the ring, holding a crude megaphone and a letter. He opened it one handed, and cleared his throat to read it. 

“Our first contenders are a Bounty Hunter, Flagellant, Highwayman and Houndmaster! Step into the ring!” he said enthusiastically.

It seemed he chose to forego their names. 

To make it easier on himself, Tardif figured.

They all walked into the ring and awaited the announcement of their opponents. Dismas checked over his guns. William gave Fergus a cookie and patted her side as she ate it. 

Sarmenti waited for the cheering to die down a bit before continuing.

“And facing them today will be...A Hellion, Shield Breaker, Antiquarian and Plague Doctor!” he said, gesturing towards their tent. They walked out with determination. 

The two groups stared at each other. 

Suddenly this all felt very real. 

“You have three minutes to go over a plan, but when the bell rings it's go time!” Sarmenti concluded. The crowd cheered as he jogged out of the ring. 

He looked Tardif's way as he passed him. 

_ I'll see you tomorrow. _

Tardif was going to win. 

He turned to his team. 

“Josephine goes first.” He said. “Her magic is too powerful; if she strengthens the others, it'll make things harder for us.” 

They nodded. 

“What about Paracelsus?” Dismas asked. 

“We'll need to try to stay out of her range.” Tardif answered. 

“She's got quite the arm on her.” Dismas pointed out. 

“Didn't say it was going to be easy.” 

Tardif turned to Damian. 

“They're likely going to go after William first; Fergus is too spry and only responds to him. You'll be playing body guard. I'm not worried about you; you can handle it.” 

Damian smiled and nodded. 

“Dismas and I are going to rush Josephine. William help where you can, and if there's an opening, go for Paracelsus.” 

Tardif pointed to all of them sternly. 

“Plans go awry quickly; get ready to adapt. Communicate with each other, but try not to tip them off. Don't get in each others way.” he said. “They're not going to give us an inch.”

“Time's up!” The Butcher announced. The two teams turned to face each other, each standing behind a painted line designated as their starting point. 

“Let the game's begin!” 

Josephine snapped her fingers, triggering her censer to spit out a blue mist. Tardif and Dismas bolted over to her as Boudica rushed towards Damian. Paracelsus fled to the edge of the ring, positioning herself to lob bombs across the battleground. 

Dismas took aim and shot at Josephine, bullet blocked last second by Amani's shield. He holstered his gun to pull out his knife. 

Boudica wasn't giving Damian a chance to move as she struck him relentlessly with her bardiche. He threw up his arms, letting her slice them as he laughed boldly. The blood was running freely and dripping to the ground beneath them. 

He was biding his time. 

William was slowly circling the ring, keeping a close eye on things. Paracelsus threw a few bombs his way, forcing him to sprint from them to leaving Damian in the midst of it. 

She knew her bombs well enough to keep Boudica out of their area of effect. 

Tardif was having a hard time striking Amani as she bobbed and weaved away from each attempted blow. She stabbed forward, missing his head by barely an inch. She stabbed a few more times, missing all but one which got him in the bicep. A flesh wound. 

Josephine threw a smoke bomb at their feet. Tardif backed up, trying to get out of range of Amani's spear. 

He almost didn't see the flash of a knife behind him.

He spun around and blocked a stab from Dismas. 

“I don't trust this bitch.” He said. “Who's to say she won't put me up against you?”

Amani caught glimpse of them, weapons locked, and used the opportunity to strike at Tardif. 

The stab scraped along the front of his mask. 

Dismas stabbed at his ribs. 

They wouldn't give him an inch. It took everything to bob, weave and sidestep as Amani danced in and out of the smoke to take jabs at his head, neck and chest. Dismas' slashing was slow enough to block with his arms, which were starting to take too much of a beating.

Fergus went flying through the air, catching Amani by the throat and dragging her to the ground. As the smoke dispersed, Tardif caught sight of tendons and sinew being torn out aggressively as Amani struggled to push the dog off of her. Josephine was screaming.

Dismas had lost his nerve, now that the smoke has faded. He took a few steps back, holding his knife out in front of him. Tardif took a few seconds to study his stance. 

As Dismas lashed out, he sidestepped and planted his axe into his shoulder. Dismas screamed as it was nearly cleaved from his body; the limb falling uselessly to his side. It dropped the knife as it swung from nearly severed skin and bone, making a wet, sickening sound as it still recovered from the momentum. He laughed nervously as he backed away from Tardif. 

He tripped over himself as he struggled to grab his gun.

Tardif quickly kneed him full force in the chest, driving the wind right out of him. He knelt down on him.  


“Can't beat a man hunter at his own game.” he struggled to say as Tardif brought the axe down, splitting his face and crushing his skull. 

Damian's arms were so torn that bone had been exposed. He let his brutalized arm fall to his side, clutching his flail tightly as he waited for his blood to completely cover it. Boudica went for his neck, but the blade of her bardiche got caught in his collar. 

Damian swung up.

The flail caught Boudica under the chin. The skin nearly exploded upon impact; three paths of rent flesh traveling up her face and up into her skull, exposing bone and brain. She fell lifeless to the ground, but that didn't stop Damian. 

He kept swinging, laughing maniacally as his arms started to mend on their own. 

Tardif and William looked over to Paracelsus at the opposite end of the ring. 

Even covered from head to toe, they could tell she was nervous. 

The two of them rushed over with Fergus leading the way. Paracelsus pulled out her knife just in time to slash at Fergus, who took the hit in the face with a whimper. 

She threw down a smoke bomb before she was within striking range of Tardif and William. William coughed and backed off a few steps. 

Tardif waited. 

He reached out and grabbed her arm as she tried to flee, but only just barely. 

She twisted around to stab him in the arm, knife lodging itself in good. 

He punched up and hit her square in the jaw. She went flying, crumpling to the ground.

The blow had knocked her out cold. 

Tardif walked over and removed her mask. 

He gathered a few of her vials and threw them around her face. He, William and Fergus backed off quickly as the air was filled with toxic fumes. 

He figured she'd rather her science kill her than his axe.

William and Tardif turned to Josephine. 

She had placed Amani's head in her lap. She stroked it as she sobbed, either unaware of or choosing to ignore the blood that was pooling all around her. 

From the lack of pressure behind the bleeding, it was safe to say Amani was dead. 

The two men looked at each other. William's expression was pained.

“I....can't.” He said, looking back to Josephine. 

Tardif nodded. 

He walked up quietly behind her, taking care not to alert her of his approach. 

He figured she was too distraught to notice regardless. 

He reared up with his axe, and with one strike lodged it into the back of her skull. 

She slid off of it and crumpled over onto Amani. 

Dead. 

The crowd went absolutely wild.

Tardif and William looked over to Dismas' body a few feet away. 

_ “No hard feelings.” _


	2. The second night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Hamlet struggles as they adjust to becoming numb to the death of their companions. Baldwin fills in for Dismas to make Tardif's team whole again. 
> 
> Their next fight begins more tragic than the last.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's been over a month since I've updated this. I got too invested in my other fic.  
> I will try to update this more frequently because it's supposed to be on the shorter side, and it would be nice to finish it up before I get more ideas for chapters and deviate from my notes.

The Butcher wouldn't let them have the bodies. They had hoped to at least bury them, but she insisted they had to stay in the ring to “enhance the ambience of the tournament.”

Moods were dark that night, and there was a lot of fear.

Fear of Tardif.

Sarmenti had relayed that they were to stay in their assigned tents, and to not shuffle around with each other. Tardif wished that wasn't the case. He did not want to be with Reynald that night.

“Why did he do it?” Reynald asked, tone flat and quiet. He would not look at Tardif.

“Thought she'd pit us against each other sooner or later.” Tardif answered, tone matching Reynald's. “Viewed me as his biggest threat.”

Reynald nodded.

Junia shuffled over to look at Tardif's arms.

“What are you doing?!” Reynald shouted. Junia looked at him, eyes brimming with tears.

“I can't go against my vows.” She said.

“We will be fighting him tomorrow.” Reynald hissed. Junia nodded.

She placed her hands on Tardif's arms and prayed.

“No hard feelings.” Baldwin said from his spot in the corner.

\--

Tardif left to meet Sarmenti at the same time as the night before, and found him to be waiting for him. Tardif went to hold him.

“Don't touch me.” He said quickly. Tardif froze.

Sarmenti was covered in blood.

Tardif waited for him to explain.

“I'm fine.” He said. “I convinced the Butcher to let me move the bodies, though the condition was I move them myself.” Sarmenti looked down at his clothes.

“This is hard for you.” Tardif said.

Sarmenti laughed bitterly.

“It's hard watching your lover kill your friends, for sure.” He paused. “I've poisoned her, but her tolerance must be higher than I expected. She shouldn't have woken up this morning.”

“What will you do now?” Tardif asked.

“I don't know. Raising the dose leaves a bitter taste; I'll have to figure out how to mask it.” He sighed.

“What about that barrier around town, is there a way to get rid of that?” Tardif suggested. Sarmenti shook his head.

“That is beyond me; I'm not good with magic.” he shrugged in defeat. Tardif frowned.

“I want to help you.” he said.

“Then stay alive. I can't save anyone if I'm too busy mourning you.” Sarmenti's voice wavered. “I know it's selfish, but we all have to be in a time like this.”

Tardif nodded.

“Stay still.”

He flipped his mask up and kissed him deeply, making their lips the only point of contact. Sarmenti struggled to keep his hands to himself.

“I will see you again tomorrow.”

\--

Tardif woke up to something warm seeping into his back. He jolted upright and quickly scoured the tent.

Junia was lying in a pool of her own blood.

“Get up.” he said sternly, loud enough for Baldwin and Reynald to hear. Baldwin rose slowly, and took a moment to adjust to his surroundings.

Reynald jolted upright and crawled as quickly as he could towards Junia. He placed his fingers on her neck, feeling for a pulse.

She was dead.

“What have you done?” he said with a shaky voice. It was unclear if he was talking to Tardif or Junia.

In her hand was her favourite fountain pen, which appeared to be what she had used to slit both of her wrists vertically down the centre. Her blood had soaked into the blankets covering the bottom of the tent, as well as through Tardif's tunic and Baldwin's pillow.

If there was any doubt that Baldwin was losing sensation in his body, there was none now.

“I think she left a note.” The Leper said as he picked up the diary lying open beside Junia's body.

He read a page aloud.

“I would rather the Light punish me for taking my own life than spend the rest of it with the blood of friends on my hands.”

Baldwin and Reynald were silent for a time, before Baldwin started reciting a prayer, which Reynald joined halfway through.

The silence resumed after they had concluded.

“What should we do with her?” Tardif asked. Reynald looked at him with barely concealed rage.

“We bury her, of course.” he said, “Or would you rather leave her here like you did with our friends last night?”

Baldwin placed his hand on Reynald's shoulder.

“Grieve, but do not blame Tardif for the crimes he's been forced to commit. You and I too, have been forced into the same fate.” he said calmly.

His words seemed to calm Reynald, and Tardif was grateful for Baldwin's calm demeanour despite the circumstances.

“The graveyard is no longer accessible.” Tardif stated, bringing the conversation back to his original question.

“I suppose...we burn her.” Baldwin suggested. Reynald nodded sadly.

“Cleansed by holy fire.” he added. “But where should we do it?”

Tardif looked towards the opening of their tent.

“The only space large enough would be either the ring or the middle of the camp grounds.”

\--

The camp grounds already had a large bonfire in the middle of it, more for presentation than practicality it seemed, so all they had to do was place Junia's body in it. Baldwin carried her; staining his already grimy gauze a dark brownish red. The people who were already milling about the area stopped what they were doing to stare at them.

“Good god, what happened?” William said as he approached them. No one answered him, but he seemed to understand once he saw the blood dripping from Junia's wrists.

Everyone came closer to see for themselves.

Audrey gasped, and someone had started crying.

Reynald held his arms out to Baldwin.

“You'll catch fire if you lower her in.” he said. Baldwin nodded and handed Junia over to him. Reynald was not as strong as Baldwin, and had to adjust Junia a bit before getting a proper hold on her.

He walked over to the fire and hesitated. Baldwin placed a hand on his shoulder.

Reynald took a deep breath and placed Junia into the fire.

The flames turned white and engulfed her instantly. The smell of burning flesh was pungent, which made a few mourners gag and retch.

Tardif tossed Junia's diary into the flame. He did not know what she wrote about, but he did know that she would rather take her secrets to the grave.

\--

Evening was upon them sooner that anyone had liked, and they all found themselves waiting in their respective team tents once again.

Except now Baldwin was standing where Dismas had been yesterday.

“Ladies and Gentlemen!” they heard from out in the ring. The indistinct chatter of the crowd fell silent. “I welcome you again to another exciting evening of the Butcher's Circus!”

The crowd cheered, and the Butcher waited until they had quieted enough to continue.

“If we could have our contestants join us.”

One of the small jesters opened the flap of their tent and gestured for them to exit it with a bow. Tardif led his team to their waiting area outside of the ring.

“Now, I don't want to keep you waiting, so we will once again have our wonderful Sarmenti announce tonight's fighters.”

Sarmenti excited a side tent and jogged into the middle of the ring, taking a bow once he reached the centre.

Tardif noticed he had changed out of his bloodstained clothes, and was now wearing the green outfit he had always hated.

A shame that hadn't been the one he ruined last night.

“Thank you, Madame Butcher.” Sarmenti said as he stood from his bow and slipped a paper from out of his pocket dramatically. “And now, shall we unveil the mystery of tonight's contenders?”

The crowd cheered as he unfolded the paper. He cleared his throat for silence.

“Tonight, we will have our winning team, minus a Highwayman, plus an addition of a Leper, face off against our Man-at-Arms, Crusader, Vestal and Musketeer!”

Tardif felt a twinge of pain as Sarmenti mentioned Junia.

He had no idea what happened to her.

“Now, if you would please enter the ring. Remember, three minutes and then it's go time.” Sarmenti said, before jogging out of the ring back the way he came.

Tardif, Damian, William and Baldwin entered the ring; each glancing around it nervously.

The bodies of last night's losers had been shoved directly to the side of the ring in a pile, with each of their faces turned away from sight.

Tardif had everyone gather around him.

“Our main focus should be on Margaret. That gun is powerful and her skill with it is impeccable. Be sure to move as erratically as possible approaching her.”

“And what after that?” Baldwin asked.

“I don't want our heads too far in the future. I want us as a group to focus solely on Margaret; Reynald and Barriston will be guarding her tightly while she takes pot shots at us. Anything after that we'll play by ear.” Tardif said, repeating himself to drive home the plan.

The others nodded.

“And...time's up!” the Butcher announced. “Make your way to your starting points and start on the bell! May the victors bask in the blood of the defeated!”

The crowd cheered as they put themselves into place.

Barriston and Reynald had positioned themselves in front of Margaret in tight formation, with Reynald raising his sword and Barriston his shield.

They looked both defeated and determined.

Tardif, Damian, William and Baldwin were evenly spaced out from each other, giving themselves room to work with.

William fed Fergus a cookie which she noshed quickly.

The bell was rang.

William whistled and Fergus went running.

“Steady!” Barriston shouted.

“Hup!” Margaret and Reynald shouted in response and they all widened their stance in unison. Margaret held her musket in between Barriston and Reynald and shot quickly with a thunderous bang.

Damian took the hit right in the chest; throwing him onto his back with a loud thump. The sand puffed up around him as he hit the ground.

“Steady!” Barriston repeated as he and Reynald positioned themselves tighter together to block Fergus's path. Margaret and Reynald shouted their response and Margaret took aim and shot at Tardif.

He dodged the bullet just barely, taking the hit at the edge of his ribs instead of his heart. He winced and took a knee as the wind was knocked out of him.

Baldwin was walking casually towards Barriston's team, outwardly unbothered by the situation unfolding around him. Fergus' attempted assault on Margaret was starting to take up the attention of both Barriston and Reynald, who were struggling to keep up their barrier. Reynald had taken to using his full body as a shield, drawing the dog's attention to him.

“Aim!” Barrison shouted. Margaret adjusted her musket to point at Baldwin. “Fire!”

The shot broke the air with a loud crack, and the shot struck Baldwin right in the centre of his chest plate. The bullet burst it open and struck deep in his chest, but he showed no reaction as he continued his leisurely pace.

A look of panic grew on Margaret's face. She fumbled to load her musket with hands that started to shake, and took a panicked shot at Baldwin. It struck him in the shoulder, once again piercing through his armour and lodging itself deep into his flesh, but he continued towards them completely unphased.

“Hold!” Barriston shouted angrily. Margaret loaded another shot and took aim. Once again the crack of her gun rang out in the night, and the shot blew completely past Baldwin's head and into a blurry, faceless spectator.

Damian rose to his feet as William started moving around erratically to prevent a good line of fire against him. The wounded man stumbled towards Tardif and clapped a hand down on his shoulder, putting all of his weight on it as he tried to straighten himself out. He took his free hand and ran it down his spiked arm wrappings; shredding the skin to the bone.

He placed it on Tardif's other shoulder and their wounds started to mend in haste. Tardif pointed at Damian, and then to their left. Damian nodded. They both took off running in opposite directions.

Baldwin had come face to face with Reynald, who was still preoccupied with Fergus. He rose his shattered blade and slammed it down into the Crusader's shoulder, crushing and warping his pauldron unnaturally around it. Reynald cried out and tilted to the side as he took the hit, and Fergus used the opportunity to go for the opening that had been created, only to be blocked by Barrison, who slammed his shield into the ground in front of her.

Reynald stabbed forward, aiming for the opening in Baldwin's armour Margaret had created. His grip on his sword was poor, and he missed. The blade scraped along the chest plate noisily until it had stabbed into the exposed flesh of Baldwin's ribs. He hissed as the blade sliced cleanly into him; his body instinctively stepping away from the threat that was Reynald.

Baldwin widened his stance and switched up the grip on his sword, which was pointed towards the ground. He swept up, catching Reynald under a groove in his chest plate and knocking him back with significant force; sending him skidding through the dirt.

Margaret shouted something indistinct, and both Reynald and Barriston covered their eyes. She threw a handful of pellets at Baldwin's feet, which exploded into smoke at impact with the ground. Fergus started to whine as she backed up out of the smoke; trying to wipe at her eyes. Baldwin started to cough and wave his hand around his face to disperse the smoke.

Barriston burst through it to slam into Baldwin with his shield; the full force of his body behind the blow. Baldwin grunted as the hit landed; stumbling backwards as he tried to keep his footing.

Reynald had managed to get to his feet, pulling his now crumpled scrolls out from his belt as he did so. He held them aloft as he walked slowly towards Baldwin.

“In the name of the light,” he struggled to say as he panted for air, “your transgressions will be presented before you, and you shall repent.”

Baldwin clutched at his head as his body began to tremble from the strain of keeping itself upright.

Damian and Tardif had circled around the ring to flank Margaret, who was outside the range of the smokescreen. She quickly drew her sidearm and fired at Damian, who took the hit hard in the shoulder; the momentum swinging it back and throwing him off balance. He was able to recover and continued his advance. Tardif rushed in while she was distracted and aimed right for her head.

Barriston burst through the smoke and threw up his shield just as the hit was about to land. The force behind Tardif's blow caused significant strain on Barriston's arm, which flew back, striking Margaret in the head and causing her to stumble forward. Barriston lowered his shield as he tried to recover.

William whistled and directed Fergus back to Reynald. She bolted over and lunged at his scrolls, tearing them out of his hand and pulling him off balance. Baldwin swung down with his sword, grazing Reynald's helmet and lodging into his neck. It sliced through his armour enough to draw blood and cause Reynald to cry out. He stumbled backwards to get out of range. Baldwin's blade was jammed into his armour and was not easy to move, so as Reynald stepped back, his neck was dragged the full length of Baldwin's sword; smearing his blood all along it in one big streak of red.

Fergus had circled back around to lunge at Reynald, who at the last moment struck out clumsily with the pommel of his blade. Fergus landed awkwardly and stumbled and swayed as she tried to get back on her feet.

Baldwin knelt down and started reciting a passage of the Light. He was standing by the time Reynald had made it back to him, and ended up taking another blow to the wound on his side, deepening it to a near fatal level. Baldwin straightened his back and rose his sword, and slammed down with unnatural force. The armour crumpled around Reynald's shoulder and chest as if he had been balled up like discarded parchment, and he fell to the ground whimpering and wheezing.

He tried to straighten himself out, but was unable to do much other than twitch and writhe.

Baldwin leaned over to pry at Reynald's helmet; twisting and pulling it off as far as he could. He managed to expose Reynald's neck, and as soon as he felt he had enough of it available to him, he swung down with his sword; separating Reynald's head from his body.

Tardif backed away from Barriston and placed his hand in his mouth to whistle, attracting William's attention. He pointed at Barriston and William nodded. Tardif pulled out his hook and swung it forward; catching onto Barriston's shield and yanking it forward as Tardif pulled back. Barriston stumbled forward, putting himself off balance and right in the path of a charging Fergus. She jumped up and caught his face in her mouth, and they both went flying. She lost her grip on him halfway through the fall, and spun around as she landed hard on the dirt and tumbled off out of range.

Tardif was upon Barriston before he could get up off his back and swung down with his axe. Barriston swung out wide with his shield and knocked the axe away from him; an earsplitting scrape of metal on metal preceding the painful shock wave that ran up Tardif's arm. Barriston scooted backwards as Tardif kept his unrelenting pursuit.

Tardif noticed that Fergus had torn out Barriston's other eye, leaving him completely blind.

He swung again and was deferred, though with less energy and force behind the defending swing. Barriston was panting and wheezing as he backed off, and was having a hard time dragging himself through the dirt. Tardif kicked out at his hand to knock his mace out of it; sending it skittering and bouncing across the ground.

Barriston collapsed, letting his arms fall out wide as he closed his eyes in defeat.

Tardif reared back and struck down into Barriston's head; cleaving his skull.

Margaret was weeping silently as Damian advanced on her. She fumbled with her side arm, trying to reload it with shaking hands, but accidentally dropped it into the dirt, rendering it useless. Damian was stumbling as he bled heavily from his brutalized shoulder, losing too much blood too quickly. He stabbed his spiked bracelet into his leg, and when he was within range of Margaret he reached out with the same hand and grabbed her throat with startling speed. Her neck exploded in a grotesque spray of blood, and her head lolled backwards as she collapsed, almost completely severed from her body.

The crowd went wild as soon as she hit the ground.

“Amazing!” the Butcher called out, clearly elated judging by the tone in her voice, “Our reigning champions hold their undefeated record! Well, perhaps not completely undefeated. I see a new member among them.” she laughed.

Tardif and Damian looked at each other. Damian's smile was manic, like he was running on pure survival and starting to like it. Tardif turned his gaze elsewhere.

Sarmenti was staring at him from the sidelines, body as rigid as stone.

Tardif nodded nearly imperceptibly at him, and Sarmenti did the same back.

If Sarmenti didn't take the Butcher out tonight, Tardif would be fighting again tomorrow.


	3. Night Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sarmenti begins to panic as his efforts to weaken the Butcher fail, Tardif's team are growing tired from their constant battles. The others know this, and they use this to their advantage, their assault brutal and relenting.   
> This is the final battle; the final fight between friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I FORGOT ABOUT THIS I'M SO SORRY. I kept the chapter short to match the size of the rest of them, and hopefully the next chapter is about the same size but it's hard to say. We're almost done.

“What happened!?” Sarmenti nearly shouted once he and Tardif met behind the tents that night. “Where's Junia?”

Tardif shook his head solemnly.

“She left a note, said she couldn't live with blood on her hands. Waited until we were all asleep so we couldn't stop her.” he explained. Sarmenti bit his lip and shook his head.

“I...I can't...fuck!” he exclaimed angrily. He went to turn his back to Tardif, but was stopped by the Bounty Hunter; his hand easily wrapping around the Jester's arm.

Sarmenti looked to him with wide, tear brimmed eyes.

“This isn't your fault.” Tardif said. Sarmenti shook his head.

“I'm not working fast enough...I...if I don't kill her tonight, there'll only be five of us left, maybe less!” he said, voice cracking slightly.

“Sarmenti.” Tardif said sternly, his voice dipping low. Sarmenti shivered.

“Yes?” he whispered.

“You're getting wrapped up in your own head.”

Sarmenti let out a shuddery sigh.

“....Yeah, you're right. I'm starting to lose my nerve.” he admitted. Tardif pulled him gently into his chest, and held him close. Sarmenti closed his eyes and concentrated on the beating of Tardif's heart. Tardif rubbed Sarmenti's back as they breathed together; a calming exercise they often used before or during missions.

Sarmenti placed his hand over Tardif's rib, right where Margaret had shot him.

“Do you have a plan?” Tardif asked.

“Just more poison, unless I get a chance to jump her.” Sarmenti answered, his voice muffled in Tardif's tunic.

“Don't take an opportunity that isn't there.” Tardif warned.

“I know.”

They stood in silence for a few moments, listening to the ambience of the carnival night around them.

“I have to get back before someone gets suspicious.” Sarmenti said quietly as he pulled away from Tardif's embrace. Tardif caught him by the chin, and leaned in to give him a quick, deep kiss. His touch lingered as they broke it.

“Be careful.” he whispered against Sarmenti's lips.

\--

They were all very tense by the time evening rolled around; all except Baldwin, who had already openly admitted his was at peace with his inevitable death. Tardif found his presence calming, which was a stark contrast to Damian's, who was radiating a mania that worried him.

He seemed too eager to fight.

William was pale, and the dark bags under his eyes eluded to a rough sleep the night previous, though Tardif could hardly blame him. Fergus' fur was ruffled, as if the tenseness of the men around her was starting to get to her. She had taken a few hits last night, and Tardif worried that she might have some tender bruises under all that fur.

“Ladies and Gentlemen!” Sarmenti shouted, bringing Tardif's attention back to the ring. “I welcome you to the very last night of our competition; one that has had us on the edge of our seats since day one!”

Tardif immediately noticed Sarmenti's wardrobe change from last night's green to his purple outfit. A quick scan of the ring showed him that the bodies of last night's victims were again pushed to the side; their faces purposefully hidden from view.

“Now I'd hate to keep you all from your show any longer than I have to, but before we announce tonight's fight, I'd like us to take the opportunity to thank our Madame Butcher for setting up such an entertaining event. Without her vision, we would not be here tonight.” Sarmenti gestured out to the spectator booth, where the aforementioned Madame sat with a smug grin on her face.

Tardif was excited to see that she looked pale, and her ears and nose were visibly purple, even at a distance. He would wager a guess her lips were washed out under that red lipstick as well.

Was Sarmenti's poison finally getting to her?

“Now, without further ado, may I introduce our contenders?” Sarmenti placed a hand to his ear, and waited for the roar of the crowd to spur him to continue. “Well, if I could have our fresh professionals of the night step out: Our Arbalest, Grave Robber, Occultist and Abomination!”

Tardif watched as Missandei walked out into the ring, followed by the rest of her team. Her face was stern and determined.

Sarmenti waited for the cheering to die down a little before continuing.

“And now, if I could have our reigning champions enter the ring: Our Bounty Hunter, Flagellant, Leper and Hound Master!”

The crowd roared to near deafening levels as Tardif led his team into the ring, but the sound stirred no pride in his heart. He couldn't care less about the applause of the bizarre, faceless crowd surrounding him, not when it was earned by spilling the blood of his friends.

They all took up their spots behind the familiar lines drawn in the sand and awaited Sarmenti's instructions.

“Now you know the drill by now; Three minutes to plan, then we fight. Starting...now!” he said. Tardif turned to his team.

“Alhazred has to go first.” he said bluntly, directing his order to William. “Rush him before he has a chance to cripple one of us with his magic.”

William nodded. Tardif pointed at Damian.

“You think you can get to Missandei before she gets a shot off?” he asked. Damian licked his lips and grinned wickedly.

“I'm willing to try.” he answered excitedly. “If not I can at least draw her fire.”

“Good.” Tardif said with a nod, before turning his attention to Baldwin. “I want you to try and bait Bigby. I think you might be the only one of us strong enough to take a hit from him.”

“What about Audrey?” William asked.

“I'll keep her off your backs.” Tardif answered. “Remember: things can change in an instant. Get ready to adapt and stay out of each other's way.”

They all nodded their understanding.

“This one will probably be our hardest fight yet.” William stated as he gave Fergus a quick pat on the side. Tardif grit his teeth as he readied his axe, and they all turned to face the centre of the ring.

“And time!” Sarmenti interrupted, clapping his hands together dramatically. “Now, at the sound of the bell, get ready to give us the fight of your lives!”

The crowd cheered as Sarmenti rushed off out of the ring; hopping over the railing to safety.

The bell was struck.

“Do or die boys!” Missandei shouted as she shot a preloaded flare up into the air above the stadium with a loud crack. It burst into a blinding red, stinging Tardif's eyes and throwing him off guard. Not a second later he heard a lour roar, followed by a blur to his left as Bigby flew past him to slam full force into Baldwin, sending him flying into Damian, and the both of them tumbling and skipping through the sand together.

A paralyzing, sinking fear settled in Tardif's core before he had a moment to react, and he flinched at the sight of the bright orange rune blooming on his chest and bleeding into the leather of his armour. His legs grew heavy as he instinctively tried to back away from it.

Audrey popped the cork off a glass bottle and quickly downed its contents as she unhooked a glass capsule from her belt and threw it to the ground. Dark, blue black dust exploded around her; obscuring her form until it sparkled away into nothing, seemingly taking her with it.

Tardif darted his eyes about for any sign of movement, but was distracted by the high pitched whine growing from his chest, where another ring of runes was developing around the first; spinning around it as they grew brighter and more legible. Tardif's knees nearly buckled under the weight of themselves as he tried to take up a defensive stance, and he was having trouble lifting his axe above his waist. He barely threw his arm up in time to block a knife flying in from an invisible source aimed at his neck, grunting as it lodged itself deep inside his forearm. More knives were thrown from nowhere, their aim less precise than the first, and Tardif was pelted with them all across his chest, though none made it past his armour.

A bolt whistled through the air and lodged itself deep into his chest, hitting Alhazred's rune dead in the centre; sending Tardif onto his back from the force of it. He grunted in pain as he tried to rise to his feet, but the weakening curse was too strong; the weight of his own body too much for him to handle.

He heard the dirt shift as someone scrambled towards him.

Damian nearly fell into Tardif in his haste to get to him, steadying his forearms on the Bounty Hunter's chest as he caught his breath. His eyes were visibly struggling to focus as blood seeped through his dingy, white hood and trickled down the side of his face. He gripped the bolt and tore it free from Tardif's chest, and splayed his free hand over the wound, dipping a finger into it to make direct contact with Tardif's flesh.

He was violently torn from Tardif as Bigby rushed in from the side in a full tackle; latching onto him with his claws to take him tumbling through the dirt with him in a flurry of teeth and nails.

Tardif spotted the glint of metal as he struggled back to his feet, and threw his arms up to block the incoming blade, but he was too late.

Fergus jumped between him and it, intercepting the attack and capturing Audrey's wrist; dragging her free of her shroud. Audrey cursed and swung her arm out wide as she let it go fully limp. Fergus slipped off it, but found her footing before landing on the ground. She bounced off it straight into another lunge at Audrey, who thrust her pick axe straight at the dog's head. Fergus weaved under it and lunged for Audrey's hip. Audrey swung her hip backwards out of Fergus' range just barely; gritting her teeth as the dog brushed against her belt as she flew by. Fergus skid through the dirt as she landed to slow her momentum before whipping back around to face Audrey.

She lunged again, aiming for Audrey's bloody wrist, bouncing back before she could wedge the axe between them, and lunged again. Audrey backed away, barely managing to twist away from Fergus as she came at her with bloody, glistening teeth again and again; her assault both brutal and ruthless.

Baldwin had finally struggled to his feet, scrapes from his tumble covering his arms, and was uttering a prayer under his breath as he slowly advanced upon Bigby from behind. Damian's cries were hard to discern, somewhere between laughing and screaming, but they were loud enough to mask Baldwin's prayers, long enough for him to start becoming a threat. Bigby's ears perked up as Damian's cries grew wet, quiet as he ravaged him, and he spun around to snarl at Baldwin, gore dripping from his maw. He placed all his weight on his back legs, ready to spring forward.

Baldwin spun his sword around, gripped it tightly and rose it up above his head as Bigby launched himself towards him, Damian's blood and viscera wedged in the gaps in his fangs. Baldwin waited, and at the very last moment he stepped aside and swung down at the arm reaching for him, nearly severing from Bigby's body. Bigby yelped as he tripped over himself and went tumbling through the dirt, his arm dangling and twisting; blood spraying along the ground.

Tardif was hit with another bolt as soon as he made it to his feet, landing right below his collar bone on the right side, and he hissed in pain, gritting his teeth as his shoulder jolted backwards. His vision was clearing as the hole in his chest started closing slowly, and he ripped the bolt out of his shoulder to allow it to do the same.

They all stopped in their tracks as a resounding boom shook the stadium, sending a sinking, full body sense of doom to settle deep in their souls. Tardif's limbs started to tingle as a rush of power flowed through them, and his wounds started closing rapidly. He felt powerful, alert, and horrified all at once, sensing that something had gone horribly wrong.

Audrey had recovered first, kicked Fergus in the side hard enough to make her whimper and stagger back, and lunged towards Tardif, lead by her knife. She stuck him hard, just above his right pectoral, causing Tardif to let out a pained grunt. Tardif grabbed her arm, keeping her and the knife in place. Audrey panicked, trying to pull her arm back out of his grip, and she cried out as Tardif struck her hard in the face with his left fist, breaking her nose with a loud crack. He let her go, not taking the time to watch her stumble back away from him, and rushed towards Alhazred on the other side of the ring.

Alhazred was quick to send a wave of tentacles splitting through the earth, spraying dirt, stardust and shards of the void as they rushed towards Tardif. The barely missed their mark, clipping Tardif in the ankle as he took a leap over a tentacle as it was just emerging from the deep depths of space peeking out from within the earth. He stumbled upon landing, which was the saving grace that saved his life as a bolt flew behind him, barely grazing the back of his helmet. Tardif regained his balance quickly and rushed in towards Alhazred, throwing out his right arm to hook around the Occultist's neck as he took a running jump, sending them both to the ground.

Alhazred quickly whipped out his knife as he scrambled away from Tardif, who was crawling after him. Tardif heard the creak of Missandei's crossbow, one he recognized from their missions together as it being reloaded. He grabbed Alhazred by the robes and hoisted him up just in time to block the bolt, which pierced straight through Alhazred's neck. Blood tried to pulse out of his body from the destroyed artery, but with the bolt plugging the wound it was only able to pump out large amounts around the bolt rhythmically to run down his neck. Tardif dropped his body and jumped to his feet to rush Missandei before she could load another bolt.

Missandei was fast, and she had the bolt loaded before she was in range of his axe, so Tardif unhooked his hook from his belt and swung out with it, catching her in the gorget and pulling her face first into the ground. He was upon her before she could get up past her forearms, and with one fell swoop he struck her in the back of the head with his axe, cleaving it nearly in half.

Bigby was slowly transforming back to his human form as he struggled to his feet, clutching at his dangling arm uselessly and vomiting all over himself as he backed away from Baldwin. Baldwin rolled his shoulder as he slowly advanced on Bigby, wincing slightly as the dirt rash on his arms quickly healed. Bigby whimpered between heaves of rancid, glowing green vomit as he continued to back away, struggling to wrap his chain in his hand to get a good grip on it. He whipped out with is as Baldwin got too close, his grip on it tentative, managing to strike Baldwin directly in the temple. Baldwin took one, final stumbling step forward before stopping in his tracks, the world spinning around him.

Audrey was surrounded. William at her front and Fergus on her rear nipping at her legs. She flicked a knife out, missing her mark but still striking William in the chest and lodging it just above his left pectoral, too far from his heart for her, but too close for him. He winced and swung out with his cudgel, barely missing her head and taking the hat off her head to fall at her feet. She danced and hopped erratically, hoping to throw Fergus off her target, but she was only mildly successful. Fergus was unable to latch on, but she was still clipping the back of her calves, grazing her teeth deep enough to tear at her pants and scrape along the flesh they were failing to protect.

Tardif bolted over to them from the far end of the ring, slightly winded, and let out a shaky, weak whistle. Fergus shuffled back, leaving a small opening between her and Audrey. Tardif reached into a pouch on his belt and threw out a handful of caltrops, scattering them along the ground at Audrey's feet. Audrey swore as she tried to hop away from them, placing her foot down hard on her hat and slipping to her back, landing with a cry as her elbow landed directly on a caltrop, embedding itself deep into the bone. Willam was quick to sidestep out of the carpet of caltrops to close in on Audrey, and swung down with his cudgel to slam it into her forehead, knocking her out cold.

Sand hissed and bubbled in a path towards Bigby as he continued to purge acid from his body, his front completely covered and wafting rancid fumes into the air around him. Baldwin had his hand to his temple as he blinked the stars out of his eyes, his sword dragging through the dirt as he slowly advanced on the horrified mess he was hunting. Bigby lurched forward, holding his hand to his stomach as his vomiting grew more forceful, spraying in a line in front of him as he aimed it in a semicircle around him. Baldwin shuffled in the sand carefully, trying to avoid the bubbling mud Bigby had created, struggling to get close to the man.

He was nearly within striking distance, but the moat of acidic mud was preventing him from closing the distance between them.

Baldwin decided it was worth the risk.

He waited for a pause in Bigby's retching, waited for the man to catch his breath between sobs and purges, and rushed in through the mud, sword raised to strike. Bigby let out a horrified, blood curdling scream before the blade hit him, cleaving him from head to stomach in a messy burst of blood and acid. Tardif's hook penetrated Baldwin's shoulder to pull him out of the spray, but Tardif wasn't quick enough to help him escape it completely. Putrid gore splattered over Baldwin's abdomen and thigh, immediately starting to eat away at his already rotting flesh as he landed on his back, luckily into the untouched dirt right beside a bubbling puddle to his right. He began to hiss out a prayer, begging the light to stop the vomit before it ate through into his organs.

Tardif couldn't do anything to help, but he could finish the job with Audrey. He walked up beside William, who was hesitantly hovering above her with his cudgel raised, though Tardif could see he hadn't the heart to kill her, just like with Josephine in their first fight.

Tardif kicked his caltrops aside, clearing a path to Audrey, and struck her in the head with his axe, her blood spraying all over his arm and splattering against the front of his veil.

The crowd's roar was near deafening. The fight was over, and once again Tardif and his team were victorious. William rushed over to Damian, his run slowing the closer he got to the man.

His stomach was mulched into near nothingness, the ribs cracked and visible through the torn, brutalized flesh. Organs were burst and strewn around him, his intestines partially dragged from his body, assumingly fallen from Bigby's mouth when he had rushed Baldwin.

Willam clasped a hand over his mouth in shock, failing to hold back his vomit, which spilled from his had to splatter into the dirt at his feet.

“What a brilliant display of power!” Sarmenti shouted from the sidelines, voice loud and clear. “Not a surprising victory, but an entertaining one none the less!”

Tardif casually cast his gaze towards the VIP viewing box, looking for the Butcher's reaction. She almost seemed too weak to smile, but she was beaming as best as she could, her lipstick smeared over her teeth.

Tardif didn't trust the woman to make good on her promise to let them go free. It was time for them to take her out.


End file.
